


Dropping the Facades

by whiteroses77



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Humor, Identity Porn, M/M, Spell Failure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-02 03:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: The Justice League is heading out on a mission away from Earth, but what of the people left behind





	1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Dropping the Facades 1/4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,107  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: The Justice League is heading out on a mission away from Earth, but what of the people left behind. 

~*~

Prologue

~S~

The League of heroes was gathered together in conference room. They had gone through the logistics of their mission. It was going to be a hectic but hopefully short length of time that they’d be gone. None of them gathered there had been there before but the Intel they had found made them think they could handle it. It was a peace mission, yet the inhabitants could prove to be dangerous without meaning to be. It was place where gifted people were the norm. 

“It’s just kind of worrying, you know.” Flash was saying. “We can do what we do because people don’t know who we are, and some of these people can read minds.” 

Superman nodded along, “I know what you mean, but in a way people do know who we are, we show them every time we save one of them, they just don’t know what our real names are that’s all.”

Green Lantern complained, “What if these beings read our minds and find out what are names are? The last thing we need is for the world finding out who we are from some aliens, and not from us.” 

He sighed, “I know everyone’s concerned.” So am I, Superman thought, but he encouraged, “Anyway, Batman is working on something. He’s the last person who wants their identity known by the public.”

The other heroes gazed at him thoughtfully, and then nodded along. It was true everyone else had their powers to protect them but Batman’s greatest protection was that nobody knew where he lived.

He was waiting for Batman to arrive; he didn’t know exactly what Bruce had in mind. He did say something about a psychic shield. He had believed he was going to ask J'onn about it. Superman met the Martian Manhunter’s gaze from his seat at the table. He wasn’t sure if Batman had approached him, maybe his powers weren’t strong enough to shield them all, all the time that they would be amongst these gifted people or maybe J'onn was just keeping quiet until Batman arrived.

He knew he had been wrong, that Batman had another idea, when his teammate entered the conference room, and Zatanna Zatara followed him in. Superman hid his instant apprehension of using magic, behind a welcoming smile. 

Zatanna’s eyes scanned the room before coming to rest on him, and then a smile appeared in them before the matching smile grew onto her lips. “Hey, Blue, hi everyone.”

He uttered in return, “Hey Zee.”

He caught Batman’s eyes glance from one to the other. You didn’t have to be the world’s greatest detective to catch the undercurrent. Superman straightened his shoulders, “So what’s the plan?”

Zatanna chuckled softly at him trying to hide his unease, the beautiful magician always tried to ruffle him a little, never hiding her liking for him. Then she walked around the table, and came to stand behind his chair. Knowing that she was playing with him, he licked his lips, and urged, “So”

Batman met his gaze, and then it was Batman who spoke, “Zatanna is going to perform a spell that will prevent any of us bringing our names or who we are behind our masks to mind while we are on this mission.”

“That’s right.” Zatanna continued, “Nobody will lose their sense of self, it won’t change your personalities. These gifted people just won’t be able to get a reading on anything too personal.”

Wonder Woman asked, “Does that include each other’s personal information?”

“Yes.” she confirmed.

Flash asked, “You’re sure you can pull this off, I mean, is your magic stronger than their gifts.”

He heard the rustle of fabric, and the click of a stiletto heel, and knew Zatanna had crossed her arms in a show of pique at her abilities being questioned. Superman knew how powerful she was, he definitely didn’t underestimate a wielder of one of his weaknesses, but he’d seen and been a part of her spells that didn’t quite go as planned. His gaze returned to Batman, if his faith in magic wasn’t the strongest, his faith in Batman’s judgement was, and if Bruce thought it was a good idea, he had to give it a shot.

~*~

They all waited with baited breath as Zatanna Zatara conjured a spell around them. 

Heroes you are, heroes you be.  
Divest any thoughts of being any other.   
Release the masks that you hide behind.  
Your strength of mind, your skill, and the power of your heart brought you here to this place.  
You are still who you are, but.  
Your names are the names of heroes.  
Your family is your team.  
Your home is where there is need of you.  
llaf yawa dna peels 

There was a flash of power and light, and then the magic weaver staggered with exhaustion. Superman reached out and caught her. She mumbled softly into his chest, “Thanks Blue.”

“Are you okay Zatanna?” he asked concerned.

She groaned and then lifted her head, “Yeah, wow I’m a bit dizzy that’s all. I wasn’t expecting such a simple enchantment to take so much out of me.”

Batman approached, and asked quietly but with concern, “Is she okay?”

Superman nodded, “Seems to be.”

Then Batman asked Zatanna, “Do you need help before we leave on our mission.”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll transport down, and then I’m going to bed.” then she smirked at him, “When you get back you’ll know where I’ll be, Blue.”

Superman rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“Something I should know about you two?” Batman questioned archly.

He rolled his eyes again, and denied, “No… now come on.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed as his lips turned up at the corner.

He said to Zatanna, “We’ll call you when we get back.”

Then the Justice League headed for the hangar, to set off on their mission.

~C~

“Hey. Um hey…” he felt someone shaking his shoulder. He felt really tired for some reason, and he just wanted to stay asleep.

“Hey, wake up, CK.”

He jerked awake and sat up, with a yellow post-it note stuck to his face. He saw it through his black framed glasses, and he cringed as he peeled it off. 

“Thank heavens CK; I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up.” Jimmy Olsen told him.

He grumbled, and adjusted his glasses, “Um what can I do for you Jimmy?” he asked.

“Oh nothing, I just thought with Miss Lane away on assignment, that you might like a coffee.” He offered the take away cup.

For a second, he thought, why do I only get a cup because Lois is away? Then he chastised himself, just because Lois and Mr White made Jimmy into a gofer it didn’t make it right. He reached for the cup saying, “That was very nice of you Jimmy.” 

Jimmy smiled proudly.

As the cup changed hands, it slipped down between them, and spilled all over the desk. “Oh darn it!” he exclaimed.

Jimmy began apologising, “Sorry, CK… sorry.” before rushing off to get something to wipe up the coffee.

Clark shook his head, and wiped at the coffee stain that had caught the knee of his suit pants. “It’s okay it was my… fault.”

He stopped and he glanced around his and Lois’s shared office. Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure what it was but something wasn’t right. He remembered only a minute ago, waking up with his head laid against his desk; he didn’t even remember falling asleep. He felt tired, and that didn’t feel right either. He gazed at the coffee stain again; there was something about that coffee stain that didn’t feel right either. It shouldn’t be there. Well of course, nobody liked spilling something on themselves but that wasn’t it. 

His eyes found on top of the liquid covered desk, a copy of the Daily Planet laying on it, not so strange. However, there on the now sepia stained cover was a story about Superman saving a bus load of children.

Clark’s eyes widened, and he whispered, “Shit.” his hand flew to his mouth, and covered his obscenity using lips. He shook his head. Oh, he remembered now… well not remembered really, it was like a fuzzy half-forgotten dream. A life… where he was a hero called Superman, an alien called Kal-El and a farm boy named Clark Kent, but it wasn’t his life, or was it, he didn’t know for sure. 

He knew his name was Clark Kent too, but he wasn’t sure about those other things, but what he did know was that something wasn’t right.

Jimmy arrived back with some paper towels and a mop from the janitor’s closet. 

Clark sat there and watched as the photographer cleaned up his desk. He chewed at his lip, and then nervously he asked, “Jimmy, have you noticed anything different about me lately... um today?”

His young friend glanced around the office and smirked, “No CK you seem normal to me.”

Normal, Clark thought, it might seem normal to you but something was definitely not normal. He clenched his toes anxiously, scared to do anything but more afraid of not doing something. Suddenly he jumped up, and headed for the door, hit his thigh on the corner of the desk, and grimaced at the pain it gave him. No, that feeling wasn’t normal either. He turned and saw Jimmy biting his lip to stop from tittering. 

Chagrined, Clark pointed out the door, “I’m heading out.”

“Okay CK.”

Then he stumbled out of it.

In the elevator, an idea came to him, and he took a breath and with shaking hands, he opened a button on his shirt. There he found a plain white tank top. Clark sighed, and fastened the button. He had half expected to find a Superman costume under there. Did he just go insane or what? There was no way that he was Superman, was there. Yet it didn’t stop the overriding niggling feeling that he was supposed to be.

He thought about what he thought he knew; and that was in that fuzzy dream if he needed to figure something out, Superman would go Gotham and visit Batman. The idea of that was scary but was it any scarier than this feeling of not feeling right in his own skin. No, it wasn’t, he decided. So where in Gotham could he find the Caped Crusader?

Maybe he could gain access to the police department, and shine the Batsignal. Then he realised it was only mid-morning, that would mean spending the whole day like this, until night fell so the pesky light could shine in the sky and Batman could see it.

Suddenly, his mind turned to the prince of Gotham, Bruce Wayne. Now why did he just think of him, yes he was from Gotham but… then he knew, he knew Superman knew that Batman was billionaire Bruce Wayne, and that he lived in Gotham at Wayne Manor. He didn’t actually remember visiting there, but it couldn’t be that hard to find.

He headed down to the underground garage, found his truck, dropping his keys on the floor in the process. Finally, getting them into the ignition and starting the truck up, he prayed that his thinking was straight, and Batman wasn’t going to drop kick him to the curb when he tried to speak to him, or worse throw him into Arkham Asylum, because he really needed some help.

He drove out of the underground garage and up into the streets of Metropolis, and headed for the freeway to Gotham.

His fingers were white and bloodless from gripping the steering wheel so hard with nerves, as he second guessed himself the closer he got to Gotham. He saw the Wayne Enterprises tower in the distance, looming large on the cityscape. He breathed slowly and focused on the road, suddenly out the corner of his eye, he saw a silver flash go past on the other side of the barrier. Clark swallowed hard, and looked in the rear view mirror wondering what had caught his attention. He heard the loud screech of brakes, and rubber burning. In response, Clark tried to brake smoothly, while trying to get a better look. Though it turned out more jerky than smooth; it was lucky he wasn’t taking his driving test right now, he thought.

Moments later, he heard a commotion as the silver flash began reversing down the other side of the road. Horns were blowing, and cars tried to get out the way as the powerful silver Lamborghini reversed the wrong way down the road until it was level with Clark’s truck. 

So shocked, Clark braked hard, and the drivers of the cars travelling behind him began beeping their horns at him.

The silver sports car and the red pickup truck stopped parallel from each other.

He saw billionaire Bruce Wayne was driving the car, then he pressed a button and the electric window wound down. Bruce Wayne pulled his Ray-Ban’s down his nose and stared at him over the tops of the sunglasses, and then he made circling motions with his fingers. It took a second then finally Clark got the message and wound down his window too.

He licked his lips nervously, as car after car had to swerve around the now parked Lamborghini and his pickup truck.

The gorgeous billionaire called, “Kent right…” He nodded, and adjusted his glasses in response. Mr Wayne said, “I think we need to talk.”

He swallowed hard but nodded.

Bruce Wayne glanced around the traffic, and then he called, “Keep driving, meet me at the city exit ramp, wait for me there.”

He stuttered, “B…b… but you’re on the wrong side, it’s miles to the next…”

Bruce Wayne shook his head, “I’ll meet you there.”

Then he sped off as quickly as he’d braked before with his tyres burning. Clark let out a breath, that guy was crazy. He sure hoped he made it to the off ramp in one piece.

~B~ 

Bruce put his foot down, and his car dodged all the cars that had managed to pass him as he’d talked to that guy Kent. He was kind of driving dangerously he knew but what was the point of owning a fast car if you couldn’t drive fast. He was still kind of agitated. He wasn’t a stranger to feeling out of his depth. Especially in the business world, he was grateful for Lucius because he knows he wouldn’t be able to handle all that business double talk. However, today there hadn’t been a meeting at Wayne Enterprises, but it didn’t stop him feeling something was wrong.

It felt like a bad hangover, where what happened yesterday seemed like a hazy alcohol induced memory. Yet one thought kept coming to him all morning, and that was to go to Metropolis and find Clark Kent. Meeting him on the road on the way had been a surprise, Bruce hoped he was right and Kent had some answers.

After haring it, the off-ramp came into view and he drove off the freeway. He saw Kent’s truck parked up just past the exit. He pulled in, in front of it and parked up. He sat there for moment feeling antsy and then he opened the car door. He got out and then walked towards the truck. Without prompting this time, Kent wound down the driver’s window, and Bruce came and rested his forearms on the window sill. He saw Kent’s eyes widen. He looked even more off kilter than he did. 

Bruce said, “Let’s get to a place where we can talk.”

“Uh okay.”

“Follow me.” He told him.

Then he returned to his car, and then led Clark Kent and his truck into the city. He led him to an eatery where he knew they could get something to eat, and he could get a drink. From the looks of Kent, he needed one too to steady his obvious nerves.

The restaurant was almost deserted at mid-morning. Bruce was grateful for the privacy for the first time in his life. They were seated, and offered menus. Bruce removed his sunglasses and placed them in his inside pocket.

Then they met each other’s gazes across the table, neither wanting to be the first one to speak. Bruce was used to being charming and putting people at ease, well ladies really but the skill was the same. He smiled and said, “Let’s order first and then we’ll have some privacy.” 

Kent smiled tightly, “Okay.”

They both picked up their menus and scanned them. Bruce noticed how Kent was squinting through his glasses. At first, he thought he was worried about the prices, so he joked, “Need a stronger prescription?”

Flustered, Clark laughed. “I guess it’s another thing that doesn’t feel right about today.”

Bruce’s heart dropped, and he said, “I thought you might have some answers for me.”

His dining companion’s laughter fell away, and his face showed disappointment. “That’s why you were heading for Metropolis.” He winced, “That’s… I was coming to find you… for answers.”

Bruce chuckled then, “I don’t have any of those I’m afraid.”

Clark’s brow creased and he whispered, “But you remember what I do don’t you…” he glanced around the empty restaurant, “You remember being…B…”

He began feeling uneasy; he shook his head and denied, “No, I remember a nightmare I had, that wasn’t me, that wasn’t real.”

Clark shook his head, “Mr Wayne, I’m sorry but that doesn’t make sense.”

“What would you know about making sense…?” he shot back defensively.

He saw him straighten his shoulders, and then he stated, “I’m a reporter Mr Wayne, I know about truth, and lies and cover ups.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “You’ve got a grown up job whoopy do, good for you.”

Clark adjusted his glasses, and said with chagrin, “You were coming to me for answers, why was that if that nightmare you had wasn’t real.”

He swallowed hard in response.

His companion continued, “I need to figure this out, my instinct was to come and find you. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

He didn’t want to think seriously, it definitely wasn’t his thing. He closed his menu and suggested, “The Cobb salad looks good.”

Clark gazed at him, and then uttered, “Please, Mr Wayne help me figure this out.”

 

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Dropping the Facades 2  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,852  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce try to figure out there place in the world.

~B~

He wanted to tell him to go to hell; he didn’t want to explore his underlying sense of not belonging that he’d had since this morning. His only options were going along with what Kent wanted, or going on a bender, and not stopping until his world felt right again. It wasn’t much of a choice, he couldn’t enjoy his lifestyle if he was totally wasted, could he. Bruce sighed, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Kent wondered.

“Yes okay.” He confirmed begrudgingly.

The waiter return for their order, Bruce barely acknowledged the server, although he asked Clark, “Cobb Salad alright for you?”

Clark glanced at the waiter, and spoke, “Yes that would be good.”

Bruce nodded, “Two Cobb salads, and a bottle of your finest…”

“Cough-cough.” He was interrupted.

Bruce frowned at the scowl on his companion’s face. He grumbled, and then he amended, “Two Cobb salads and some coffee.”

He noticed his companion seemed happier with his second choice, as the waiter left them to fulfil their order. He smirked and taunted, “You’re not a teetotaller are you?”

The bespectacled man glanced away and shook his head, “It’s only 11am.” Then he returned his gaze to him, and then asked, “How are you the man behind the bat?”

It was truly annoying, sure, he somehow knew somethings, but he didn’t even have a vague recollection of being Batman, only the sense that something was missing and that it was something to do with Batman. He retorted sardonically, “Well if that nightmare was real, you sure don’t seem like you could fill Superman’s boots.”

Clark swallowed hard, “I know that.” he said quietly. “I also know that Superman is Clark Kent, just like I somehow know Batman is Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce confessed, “I know, I don’t want to know but I know.”

“Something isn’t right though, I dropped my coffee this morning.” Clark revealed, then he must’ve seen the confusion in Bruce’s eyes, and he added, “I’ve dropped my coffee before it’s not unusual for me, but this morning… it didn’t seem right, I can’t explain the wrongness of it.”

Bruce concurred, “I woke up alone this morning in my own bed.” He saw a shade of embarrassment come to the reporter’s cheeks. It urged him to smile but he added seriously, “I never wake up alone, Mr Kent I don’t remember the last time I slept in my own bed.”

He saw Clark’s eyes widen in alarm, and Bruce asked, “What is it?”

With a distressed look he revealed, “I just realised, I never go home to my apartment.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean I know my address, I just don’t remember ever sleeping there. Oh gosh, I…”

“What you’re saying is that parts of our memories are gone?” he queried.

Clark swallowed hard, “I think what I’m saying is, all those gaps, I think it’s when I’m him.”

“Superman… you think Superman lives at your apartment?”

“No, I think he goes home as Clark.”

He was completely confused, “What?”

“I think he’s Superman and Clark Kent at the same time.” Clark met his gaze intensely through his lenses, “I think Batman is the same, he’s Bruce Wayne at the same time.”

He laughed at the ridiculousness of it, “So who the hell are we supposed to be?”

Clark shook his head with dismay, “I don’t know.”

~C~

Clark stepped out of his red pickup truck and gazed up at the impressive façade of the huge mansion. He swallowed nervously, and then approached the GQ model that was leaving his fancy car too, and stepping up on the wide stone steps leading up to the house. He adjusted his glasses and asked, “Are you sure we can just walk in there?”

Bruce replied, “Of course it’s my house isn’t it?”

That was the thing, Clark wasn’t sure, not after the revelation he’d made back at that restaurant. That somehow they both remember moments in two of the world’s greatest superheroes lives, yet they somehow weren’t them. He still didn’t know what that made them. They both imagined they were really Batman and Superman but since this morning, their lives had just felt wrong, like something was missing.

He could tell by Bruce’s attitude that he would like to start drinking and not stop until he blotted this whole thing whatever it was out. However, Clark on the other hand knew that there were large chunks of his life missing, but the thing that was most prevalent, the thing he knew about himself for sure was his job, he was a reporter, and he couldn’t ignore this and hope it went away, he had to find out the truth.

“O…okay.” Clark said, “Let’s get in there and see for ourselves what we’re dealing with.”

“What if there’s nothing there?”

“You said in your nightmare, that Batman had a secret underneath Wayne Manor.”

“I don’t remember actually seeing it, but I remember during a party I once threw here at the Manor, that my butler approached me, and told me some guests were edging towards one of our downstairs closets, and that I should do something about them.”

“So what did you do?” Clark inquired.

Bruce shrugged, “I did what he said, and distracted them.”

“So you think your butler knows about Batman?”

“He’s been with the family for years, he’s a loyal employee. I remember thinking what he said was important.” The billionaire admitted.

“Okay, this is your house and if we find this secret down there, we’ll know…” Clark surmised.

“Know what… that our nightmares are real?” Bruce jeered.

Clark smiled unconsciously, “Being Superman didn’t seem like a nightmare to me.”

Bruce chuckled ruefully, “Well I guess being a super-powered, sexy godlike being wouldn’t be too bad. 

He blinked rapidly totally thrown by the sexy bit.

“Though of course, none of the ladies that he must have falling at his feet have come forward with any gossip.” Bruce eyed him then, “Maybe it’s true about him bedding Lois Lane.”

Clark’s mind tripped over itself …him and Lois. She was beautiful but definitely out of his league. Then he saw Bruce run his gaze over him, then he tilted his head studying him, weighing him up and then winced, and he uttered, “Wow. I think all this is just crazy. You’re crazy for thinking that you’re actually Superman.”

He was a little disappointed by the gorgeous billionaire’s dismissiveness of the idea that he could possibly be a sexy god.

Bruce grimaced and continued, “And I sure as hell don’t want to find out that I’m really bat shit crazy.”

He shrugged, and offered, “I don’t think Batman’s crazy. I think he just wants people to think he is.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

Clark glanced at the house and said pointedly, “Well Mr Wayne, let’s go find out.”

~*~

They entered the quiet seemingly deserted house, and Bruce led him to the cupboard in question. It just looked like a regular closet. Then he turned and looked over his shoulder at Clark. Clark nodded encouragingly. Then Bruce inhaled and exhaled, and then he pushed at a wall, nothing happen, and then another, nothing and then at a dresser. They both jumped as the dresser turned on an axis and revealed some stone steps leading down. Bruce whined sorrowfully, “Shit.” Then frantically he turned and tried to get passed Clark, and out of the door and away from the truth.

Clark grasped him, and they struggled for a second, until Bruce stilled in Clark’s arms. “Shush, it’s all right.” Clark cooed softly.

“Why?” Bruce whispered the one word sadly.

He whispered in return, “We’ve got to finish this Mr Wayne.”

Bruce straightened up, and then met his gaze, and nodded. Then he turned and began the descent of the staircase. Clark followed on the narrow path. At one point, he almost slipped off the edge, but Bruce grasped him and pulled him back on course. Clark whispered, “That didn’t feel right either.”

His companion frowned, “If you really are Superman, you wouldn’t lose your balance would you, and if you fell you wouldn’t be hurt.”

Clark admitted, “I haven’t actually got any powers, and like I said before I am a bit unsteady normally, but today it doesn’t feel right.”

Bruce shook his head, “God knows what that means.”

He wished he knew too.

They continued on until they got to a place that certainly wasn’t a cellar, and it was more lair than cave. There were computer screens, and vehicles, and there was a Batman costume proudly on show. “Well here we are.” Bruce laughed hollowly.

“Bruce.” Clark admonished softly.

Bruce met his gaze and said seriously, “I’m a playboy Mr Kent, I drive fast cars, I drink, and I party and I bed beautiful women, that’s it.” 

“So how did you know that this was here?”

“I can’t handle responsibility. I can’t even run my own company. I fall asleep during board meetings…”

He prodded the obviously agitated man with his words, “Then what’s all this doing here. If Batman’s lair is under Wayne Manor, but you’re not Batman, then who are you?”

“I’m just Bruce Wayne.” He gazed around the superhero’s secret lair, and lamented, “I’m not this.”

He tried to be sensitive, “I know there’s more than that. I know about what happened to you as a kid.”

The billionaire snorted, and revealed defiantly, “I know what the gossips say, but honestly I don’t remember a damned thing about that night.”

“Repressed memories?” he wondered aloud.

He shook his head and laughed humourlessly, “Is that your excuse too?”

“What?”

“You remember as little about your life as I do. Do you even remember being a kid?”

Clark tensed his jaw, breathed deeply, and admitted, “Only vague moments, wanting to join in a game but stopping myself, knowing the answer to a question but not putting my hand up, those kinds of things.”

The other man’s brow creased, “Do you remember your parents?”

Roughly, he answered, “No.”

“Same here.” 

He adjusted his glasses. They had to get back on track. Clark asked quietly, “You don’t remember being Batman, you don’t remember any time feeling as if you had a greater purpose?”

Bruce ran his hands through his hair with frustration; Clark noted how it made him handsomer in a casual younger sort of way, not that that made any difference into his investigation, he just noticed it. He also noticed that Bruce was studying him now, instead of answering the question posed to him.

Then he found his voice, the words were thoughtful, “You don’t come across like some hero; you don’t have any powers. But you’re convinced that you’re Superman…?”

Clark breathed slowly, adjusted his glasses habitually, and admitted, “I don’t remember being Superman, I can’t recall being so confident, or…” he swallowed hard, and blushed, “Sexy as you put it. But I remember times, being in the news room and hearing about a disaster or people needing help.” He walked over to the Batman costume, and gazed at it, “I remember knowing I needed to get away from people; I remember the urgency to get there in time. I remember sneaking away and then…”

“Then what?” Bruce asked as he stepped up behind him.

~B~

Bruce watched the nervous journalist gazing at the ridiculous Batman costume with some sort of affinity, he heard him talk of helping people with reverence. Clark turned and met his gaze and shrugged, “Then nothing, then I’m back in my office talking to Jimmy or I’m interviewing someone and trying not to let my nerves get the better of me.”

He admitted, “To answer your question, I don’t have that feeling, or memories of rushing off to help someone, though I do remember backing away from danger. I don’t remember coming down here to do whatever the hell things that Batman does down here.”

Clark sighed, “Well it doesn’t change the fact that we’re in Batman’s lair.” 

“Agreed but, the question is where do we go from here, where can we go and get help figuring this out, who can we trust?”

His companion nodded, “Who would Superman or Batman trust with this problem?”

As the question left his mouth, both their eyes locked on each other at the realisation, and then he both chuckled wryly. Bruce said the words they both understood, “Obviously, Batman would go to Metropolis…”

“And Superman would fly to…” Clark glanced around the cave, “Here I guess.”

It sure looked that way didn’t it? Bruce commented, “I didn’t realise that they were that close.”

Clark blinked as his own response to that.

Then Bruce amended the previous question, “If something happened to both Superman and Batman who would they turn to next?”

Clark appeared thoughtful, but then his brow creased, and then he frowned deeper. Then he licked his lips, “Nothing that I remember answers this.”

“Right…” he sighed, because he had nothing to go on either.

“Did you say that you thought your butler might know?”

“Yeah but what if he doesn’t?”

His companion sighed, and then deduced, “I suppose they must trust the Justice League, they work with each other don’t they?”

It was becoming apparent; his journalistic companion was the one with the detective skills. He nodded along, “So how do we make contact huh?”

“Well they’ve got that Watchtower place.”

“But that’s in space isn’t it so how do we get up there Sherlock?” he replied sarcastically.

Clark suggested, “Superman must fly there, but how does Batman, unless he’s got some sort of transportation maybe, but where would we find…?”

A little incredulous but kind of excited at the idea of an adventure, he asked, “So you think we’ll be able to find this vehicle or something and transport up to the Watchtower…”

Before he could finish speaking, an electronic voice that sounded a lot like his butler stated, “Repeat voice command for security and voice recognition purposes.”

Clark and Bruce stared at each other in shock. Then Clark urged, “Go on.”

With apprehension and giddy excitement, Bruce stated, “Transport us to the Watchtower.”

They saw a machine light up in a corner, and a standing pad. They were both nervous, and then jumped out of their skins as the computer voice asked, “Transport set for Batman and Superman confirmed.”

The computer’s confirmation confirmed what they had come to believe so far, and the only way of finding the whole truth was to step onto that pad. 

So that’s what they did.

~*~

After reappearing instantaneously in a similar machine in a different room, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne left the room behind and gingerly walked the halls of the Watchtower, hoping and also afraid of meeting the other heroes of the Justice League.

They explored for a while, but didn’t come across anyone else, not even within a hall that had banks of monitors on the walls, or one that looked like a lounge.

They came across another room that was sort of a cafeteria, with a hot plate for cooking, a microwave, and a fridge for storing food. Bruce was happy to find it, and went and searched the cupboards looking for something to snack on. Clark followed him in but said worriedly, “I really don’t think helping yourself to things that belong to people who can beat you up is the best idea.”

Bruce carried on his search as he snorted and said arrogantly, “If your theory is right who could kick our asses, huh?”

“I don’t know, Wonder Woman maybe.” he suggested.

He chuckled coyly, “Wonder Woman can kick my ass anytime she wants.”

He heard Clark tut-tut, before replying, “Exactly, anytime she wants.”

Bruce turned away from his search with his hands empty, and shrugged, “Rabbit food, cookies, potato chips, or pizza.”

Clark reflected his shrug, “I’m fine.”

He shook his head, grasped a bag of potato chips, and opened them. He wasn’t about to try cooking anything himself, and his only hope of something hot was too scared to touch someone else’s property. He popped a chip into his mouth, and crunched it up while returning to Clark’s side. He screwed up his face in discomfort. Clark noticed and asked, “What’s the matter?”

He winced and he chewed, “These aren’t exactly what I’m used to.”

His companion frowned, “What… the potato chips?”

He smacked his lips, and revealed, “I only remember eating chef made restaurant cuisine. Potato chips are weird… but addictive.” 

Clark rolled his eyes behind his lenses.

As he swallowed it, he asked, “So what do we do now. Nobody seems to be home.”

“I don’t know, but going back down there, isn’t going to help us, and they’ve got to get back at some point, we’ll just have to wait.”

“Great.” he muttered around another salty chip.

Clark sighed, and glanced around them. Bruce offered the snack. Clark grimaced and then begrudgingly reached in and got one.

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Dropping the Facades 3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,575  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce find something to do while they continue to wait for answers on the space station.

~B~

Later, they were in the lounge like room, they’d found. On the way, they’d come across some sleeping quarters. It was strange, because he’d never thought of the heroes spending so much time up here. Then again, he doesn’t remember giving the world’s heroes that much thought anyway, except to talk about their more superficial attributes with society gossips. 

Bruce was removing his jacket, when from his seat a couch, Clark asked him, “What are you doing?”

Bruce muttered, as unbuttoned his shirt. “I’m bored, and I ate too many chips.” He laid his shirt on a nearby seat and then he jumped down, and began pushing out some press-ups. 

He paced them out steady, going for stamina. 

As his arms and back muscles flexed, Bruce felt Clark’s eyes watching him closely. He glanced up, and met his gaze as he continued. He confessed, “I don’t remember working out either, I mean I remember using my fitness to my benefit with the ladies, but I don’t remember putting the hard work in.”

Clark gave him a small fond smile, “If you are Batman, I guess your fitness has a greater purpose than impressing women.”

Bruce mirrored that smile but replied sassily, “Maybe but I do enjoy impressing women.” Just for fun, he changed to one handed press-ups. He saw the reporter’s eyes widen slightly, and knew it wasn’t just about impressing women.

~C~

Clark watched with admiration, as the playboy proved he was more than just a pretty face. His body showed the commitment to fitness that it took to be a hero like Batman, strong corded muscle not the soft muscle of gym bunnies. He could see by Bruce’s smile that he knew exactly what he had in his arsenal. That smugness on any other man would come across as arrogant and vain. Maybe it still would do to anyone else, but not to Clark right now. Maybe that was what made a difference was because of Clark’s theory, that he was that much into his looks and body for a valid reason, that he wasn’t just a preening meathead, or maybe it was the playfulness about him, as if he didn’t take himself too seriously was the reason.

He observed his body, thinking about how he said he didn’t remember working out. The gaps in his own life were similar; he didn’t remember working out either, but to be honest, he never thought about his body, only that sometimes he felt his size was what caused the occasional clumsy episode. Today was full of thoughts of not feeling right, and that felt wrong too somehow?

His focus returned to the playboy as he changed position, and began doing sit ups. Bruce had positioned himself so every time he sat up, he met Clark’s eyes, he noticed. Clark smirked at the obvious attention seeking. Bruce saw his expression and asked, “What is it?”

He adjusted his glasses, and lightly accused, “You’re a show off.”

Bruce grinned, “What if I am?”

Clark smiled at his cocky but likeable companion. He shrugged, “I don’t know why you’re bothering to try to impress me.”

Halfway up, Bruce stopped and held his position. His abs were rippling with the tension, his chest and his biceps were bulging as well, but he spoke casually, “You are a contradiction Mr Kent, on the one hand you don’t seem to think much of yourself, but on the other you think that you’ve got a secret life as the greatest hero on the planet.”

Clark blushed, not really knowing how to explain why that was.

“Take your glasses off.” Bruce requested.

He hesitated and then he did as he was asked. He slipped them off, and then met the playboy’s gaze. Bruce gazed at him blankly for a long moment, and a half smile crept onto his face. Then suddenly he continued his sit ups, leaving Clark wondering what his opinion was. Except, Bruce didn’t offer it, and Clark was too afraid to ask.

Bruce finished his reps, and then met his gaze again. Then that smile crept onto his face again. 

~B~

From the floor, Bruce gazed at the man sitting on the couch facing him. He saw the doubt in his eyes, as his fingers subconsciously fiddled with his glasses that were in his hands. He’d asked him to remove them out of curiosity. It was the reporter’s theory that they were more than they seemed. It seemed doubtful that the man in front of him although intelligent could be an otherworldly god in disguise. Bruce had only seen Superman in the media so he wasn’t the best judge but without the glasses, Clark’s face seemed to flourish. Could he be Superman, Bruce wasn’t sure, but he was undoubtedly gorgeous.

He smiled, and Clark frowned.

He sat up fully, and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. He asked, “You said before that you don’t remember going home to your apartment.”

Clark clearly didn’t know where he was going with his questions but he answered, “N…no, that’s right.” 

“Do you remember sleeping at all…?”

The reporter’s brow creased, but replied honestly, “No, apart from waking this morning with my head laid against my desk.”

“So you think it’s Superman who sleeps…” Clark’s frown deepened, and Bruce smirked, “You think Superman uses the bed?”

Clark’s tongue ran over his lips nervously, “W…well um like I said I sense that there’s another part of him.”

“A part that uses the bed?” he asked wryly.

He played with the glasses in his hands nervously. “I guess so.”

Bruce smiled slowly, and asked, “Are a virgin?”

He saw the colour rise on his face, his eyelashes flutter as he glanced away. 

He grinned in amusement, and then he murmured, “You’re too gorgeous to be a virgin.”

Clark’s eyes darted back to him, shocked by the flattery. Bruce held his gaze intensely. There was something intriguing about the idea of exploring virgin territory. Bruce’s usual type were women who knew what they wanted and weren’t too clingy. But the idea of this shyly alluring man was tempting. He knew he could have any woman he wanted, but to seduce… hum to seduce Superman, whether it was true or not wouldn’t be just a notch on his headboard but a trophy worthy of parade.

Bruce held his gaze, and got up onto his knees; he crawled over and put himself between Clark’s thighs. Clark’s eyes widened like a deer in headlights. Bruce chuckled lightly. Then he reached out, and he rubbed his hands over Clark’s thighs seductively. He was surprised when he felt the muscle under his palms. His curiosity was even more piqued, wondering if the rest of his body matched the strength of his thighs. 

Clark’s breath stuttered, “M... Mr Wayne what are you doing?”

He replied silkily, “I want to help you; I want to prove to you how gorgeous you are.”

His mouth moved wordlessly, and then he cringed, “You can’t do this. You don’t really want to do this.”

“Come on baby, we’re bored up here, let’s see if we can liven things up.” he urged.

“You want to… because you’re bored?” he asked in quiet distress.

He leaned in and murmured, “I’m very good you know. I could be so good for you.”

He watched his tongue swipe his lips nervously again. He felt his legs trembling under his palms. Bruce leaned in and cooed, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Clark shook his head, “This is crazy. We can’t do this!”

Bruce asked, “Why not?”

“Because we’re Superman and Batman.” he insisted.

“So” he hummed.

With shaky breath, “If I have to explain, then it proves it’s wrong.”

Not letting this go yet, Bruce ran his palm up to Clark’s crotch. He felt the bulge of interest there a second, before Clark sprang up, and almost fell over while trying to get away from him. Bruce watched with amused frustration as Clark stumbled out the door. He smiled after him. 

Nonchalantly, he stood up, and grabbed his shirt and slipped it on, though he didn’t bother fastening it, and then he followed his target leisurely down the corridors of the Watchtower. 

~*~

The place was huge but some sort of subconscious instinct made finding him not that hard. He found him in one of the sleeping quarters. When he opened the door, he found Clark lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. Hearing the door, his eyes found Bruce there. Bruce folded arms over his bare chest and he leaned against the jamb and held his gaze. Clark swallowed hard with apprehension. Bruce murmured, “You finally found a bed huh?”

Clark glanced around the bed that he was laying on, and then met his gaze again.

Bruce said huskily, “Good work.”

The nervous but gorgeous reporter shook his head, “I told you…”

He smirked, and offered a suggestion, “Did you ever wonder who might share your bed with Superman?”

Clark breathed steadily but Bruce could read the impact his implication was having on him. He pushed away from the door jamb, and walked towards the bed. The door swished closed behind him. Clearly on edge, Clark looked as though he was about to jump off the bed. Yet as Bruce climbed on, he didn’t make the attempt. Bruce smiled, and then straddled those powerful wool clad thighs. Clark breathed heavily underneath him, staring up half bewildered, half something else. That something else spurred Bruce on.

“I’ve seen your face, now I want to see your body.” Bruce told him.

“Why…?” he asked meekly.

Bruce laughed with true delight, “You think you might be Superman, but you don’t understand what that means do you?”

“It means I help people, that I’m more…”

He leaned down, and whispered, “Yes, you are more; I told you that you are a sexy god.”

“But you didn’t believe that I was Superman then…”

“It doesn’t matter, because you are sexy, and I want to see you.”

He saw the unsureness in his whole being, but it wasn’t a rejection. Bruce sat up, and he ran both hands over Clark’s cotton covered chest, he felt the strength of his pecs, and Bruce felt the warmth of arousal gather below his belly. He rubbed and massaged those muscles, tweaking his nipples through the material. 

He saw the pink of his blushes give way to the pink of flushed aroused skin. The tension leeched away and he felt his body give way under his. Bruce met his eyes, and asked, “Share yourself with me.”

Clark’s hands shook as he reached for his own buttons. 

~C~

Clark spread the material of his shirt to show himself to the man who demanded he do so. Bruce’s fingertips caressed the plain white fabric, and then he snagged the edge of his white tank top, and dragged it up to Clark’s armpits. Clark felt conspicuous and he still didn’t understand why Bruce Wayne had just decided he wanted him. The things he said didn’t bode well, either it was because he was bored, or because he wanted Superman, or just because he thought he could. 

He was using Batman and Superman’s connection as an excuse, but the truth was it could be true, Clark didn’t know. 

What he did know was that he was flattered that a renowned womaniser could actually consider him worthy. He knew he was curious, because the facts were he didn’t remember ever having sex, or having someone touch him with tenderness or intimacy. He knew there were times when he’d thought he’d seen a spark of attraction in a woman’s eyes, only for it to be replaced moments later by pity as he’d trip or spill something. The memory of those women didn’t feel right today either. 

He groaned softly as Bruce Wayne’s hands caressed his bare chest. He was nervous because this was frightening for him, when it came to reporting he knew what he was doing but when it came to this kind of thing he was clueless, but at the same time it was also exciting because Bruce’s expression hadn’t turned to pity, no his eyes revealed even greater desire growing in them. He was sure the notorious Bruce Wayne could teach him a thing or two when it came to desire. He was attracted to him too, and that made the idea of turning him down more difficult. Yet it was difficult, what if his theory was right, what if they were Superman and Batman, what if…

Clark’s eyes rolled back as Bruce Wayne leaned forward and then his lips covered one of his nipples and sucked. After the initial shock, Clark gazed at the man causing that pleasure; Bruce’s gaze met his even as he continued to play his tongue against the nub of skin. The playboy’s eyes gleamed with delight, still holding his gaze, he moved to Clark’s other nipple, hot breath against it as he asked, “You like it?”

“Yes.” Clark replied honestly.

“That’s good.” He uttered before sucking it into his mouth.

Clark let out the same groan as before, the pleasure just as strong as before, in no way lessened. Bruce stayed there for a while, and then he moved on kissing his chest. Clark endured the building pleasure as it crept into every part of his mind and body. His lover’s hand sneaked between them, and Clark jumped with surprise as Bruce’s hand cupped his crotch. Bruce’s mouthed his throat, and coaxed, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He spluttered, “I know you have.”

The playboy tittered against his throat at his reaction. Then he raised his face, and locked gazes with him so close, he gazed at Clark’s mouth, and then murmured, “You’ve got a really pretty mouth.”

He didn’t know how to response to the compliment, and smiled flustered. Bruce pressed forward and kissed his lips. Before Clark could even think to respond, Bruce released him, and groaned, “I didn’t know a man’s mouth could taste so soft.”

“You didn’t know, you mean… um you mean this is the first time… with a man… that you wanted a man?” he stuttered.

Bruce’s brow creased and he admitted, “I’m a ladies’ man. I don’t remember ever wanting a man before.” Clark purposefully took in their surroundings and the bed they were on together. Bruce took note and understood what he was implying, “I might be a ladies’ man, but all I want at the moment is to share this new experience with you.”

The idea that out of every man on this planet Bruce Wayne had decided that he was worthy of his attention, that he was the only man that he had ever desired. It was crazy, but Clark so wanted that attention, he wanted to fill in the gaps in his memories and experience. Maybe Superman already had that experience, and he had somehow forgotten, Clark didn’t know. 

With a boost of confidence, he stretched up, and he pressed his lips to Bruce’s. Bruce pulled back and gazed at him with a surprised smile. Then he slowly descended and took Clark’s mouth slowly. 

 

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Dropping the Facades 4/4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,146  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: The heroes return from their mission.

~C~

Clark felt awkward at first, he felt like he was getting it wrong or something, but then Bruce moaned into his mouth, and then he lowered his body against him. He pressed their crotches together and began a seemingly never-ending sequence of thrusts and slides that made Bruce moan in pleasure, while overcome Clark made embarrassing gasps and noises against his lover’s lips. 

Bruce only moaned more, and thrust harder against him. 

Clark was feeling overwhelmed with the pleasure, and his hands found Bruce’s fabric covered ass and grasped it instinctively. Feeling his hands, Bruce pulled away, and sat up, straddling him. They both panted while staring at each other. Clark asked nervously, “W…was that good?” 

The sexy mussed playboy breathed heavy, and shook his head mutely. Clark’s eyes widened worriedly. Bruce made a sound that was half hum half groan, and then his fingers were at the clasps on Clark’s pants. He released him, and exposed him. Then he just stared at Clark’s erection there lying against his belly. Then he made an almost inaudible growling sound.

Clark swallowed, gazed down his own body, and saw the length of heavy flesh that obviously belonged to him. He huffed out a breath and then glanced at Bruce, and saw him watching him keenly, and then he returned his gaze to his own erection.

He was distracted when Bruce asked huskily, “You’ve never been hard before have you?”

He felt incredibly foolish admitting it, but… “No, I don’t ever remember.”

Bruce reached out, and he picked up Clark’s cock, and he began stroking it steadily, Clark shuddered in reaction. Bruce smiled, “Oh I think you’d remember this if you had.”

~B~

The reactions of the man lying beneath him were both amusing and endearing; it didn’t change just how sexy he was. He stroked the aroused cock that perfectly matched the body that it was attached to. For a second, he recalled Clark’s theory, and for a second he wondered what it would be like to share something like this with Superman when things weren’t wrong, or didn’t feel different. What would it be like to be here with this gorgeous face, this glorious body but with the power and the personality to match it? Would it be him beneath him, at the tender mercy of the Kryptonian god? 

That thought and the affect it had on his body, had him scrambling at his own clasps and zipper. He released his rock hard cock, and squeezed around the base. 

“Oh gosh.” Clark uttered.

Bruce returned his gaze to him, and saw him entranced, and looking even a little scared of his revealed length. Bruce revealed candidly, “I usually have more stamina than this.” Clark licked his lips, with a question in his eyes. Bruce answered it, “I’m more turned on now than I remember being before in my life, maybe that’s why.”

His lover smiled shyly, “You’ve already got me where you want me, Mr Wayne no need to keep trying.”

Bruce grinned and he leaned over and kissed his pretty mouth, “I’m not using flattery for once, every word is true.”

Their lips met again. Clark’s hesitant hands found his ass cheeks again. Bruce hummed, then he reached between them, he wrapped his hand around both their erections, and he jerked them together. It didn’t take long, with Clark’s virgin sensitivity and Bruce’s over-arousal they came crying out into each other’s mouths; their come splashed their bare torsos. 

Dazed, he lifted his come stained hand and he pressed his fingers in between Clark’s open panting lips. Clark’s eyes widened in surprise, and then his pretty lips hesitantly closed around Bruce’s fingers, and sucked them gently, his eyes searching his for approval. Bruce groaned, and then pulled his fingers away, and kissed those lips, dipping his tongue inside, tasting them both there. 

After catching their breaths, Bruce moved carefully off him, and lay beside him on the bed. He thought, if he’d ever come that fast with a woman, he’d be ashamed of himself for such a poor showing. However, with Clark it didn’t seem to matter somehow. He glanced up and saw Clark was looking flabbergasted and glowing at the same time. Then Clark met his gaze, he blinked slowly, he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Bruce grinned at his overawed reaction, and coaxed, “It’s okay, I know.”

He shifted and got off the bed. He entered a doorway assuming it was the bathroom. It was, and he had a quick washed down. Clark came to the doorway, and waited until he was done. Then he took his turn. Bruce told him, “I’m going to get us something to snack on.” He leered, “We’ve got to keep our strength up; we might be up for a while.”

Clark nodded, and said, “Y…yeah that would be great Bruce.”

Bruce tilted his head, and coaxed, “No stuttering with me Kent, not after what we just did.”

His lover glanced down shyly, “Okay.”

 

~S~ ~epilogue~

The returning team made their way out of the docking bay, and straggled their way towards the conference room. Their mission had been a success; they had some new allies in the universe. 

They were all looking forward to getting home, but first they knew they had to reverse the spell, that their ally had conjured around them before they’d set off. Superman wondered aloud, “Do you want to call Zatanna?”

His teammate rasped, “I got the impression, she wanted you to make contact.”

The Kryptonian smiled, “She just likes to flirt with me that’s all, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Batman nodded stoically.

Superman commented, “You know I’d have thought it would be strange with the psychic shield in place, but I just feel like me, I just don’t know who that is at the moment.”

“Me too.” Batman concurred.

“Me three.” Flash agreed as he stepped into place beside them.

Wonder Woman shook her head at their boys’ behaviour.

Then Flash announced, “I’m starved.” and then rushed ahead ducking into the canteen on the way. 

Martian Manhunter noted, “There will be nothing left when we get there.”

Green Lantern grinned, “You’ll have to hope he had the good sense to leave your cookies alone.”

Suddenly there was a blur of red and gold and Flash was standing in front of them again. His eyes were wide through the eye holes in his mask. “Guys there’s something you should see in the canteen.”

“What is it?”

“I think you need to see it.”

Curious and annoyed they continued on to the canteen. They arrived to find what had caused Flash’s alarm. Everyone stared at the two men sitting there at the mess table. Everyone glanced from Superman to one of the guys sitting there. No one could deny the resemblance. Both the men looked worried but not really shocked at the heroes’ arrival. One said to the other, “How does this work with your theory then?” 

The other one who looked like Superman swallowed nervously, “I don’t know.”

His companion snorted and then bit into the chocolate cookie that was in his hand. Beside them, the Martian Manhunter complained, “Those are my cookies.”

The handsome guy met his gaze unruffled, “They’re nice.” he said before eating the rest.

“Hey.” Batman glowered at the rudeness on show.

The guy tilted his head and met his gaze smugly.

Superman demanded, “Who are you, what do you want?”

The one that looked like him stood up, wringed his hands nervously, and said, “I…I’m Clark Kent, this is Bruce Wayne. We… um we came because we need your help.”

Batman and Superman glanced at each other. Then Batman spoke, “Why do you look like Superman, are you a clone or an experiment, are you dangerous?”

Clark Kent licked his lips, and replied, “W…we’re not dangerous, but we don’t know about those other things.”

“We…?” Green Lantern queried.

Bruce Wayne reached out, and he guided Clark back into his chair, and said calmingly “Shush it’s okay.” Then he met their gazes, “My friend here had a theory, you two being here…” he motioned to the group of heroes… “…kind of refutes it, but we still don’t know what the answer is.”

“What theory?” Superman asked interestedly. He’d faced people with his face before, but these guys didn’t seem the arch-villain type. 

Bruce glanced at Clark, and then revealed, “He figured, something had happened, an accident or something and we were you, that’s why we ended up here looking for the rest of the Justice League to help us.”

“You… who?” Batman demanded.

Bruce squinted, “He’s obvious isn’t he, but he was convinced that I was you.” he said gazing at Batman purposefully.

Batman glowered, “As if.” and then glanced at Superman looking for confirmation that the idea that this guy was anything like him was a joke.

It was Clark who spoke up in his friend’s defence, “So why is your secret lair underneath his mansion.” The Justice League members’ eyes widened at the news. Clark nodded, “That’s right, and I bet if you take off that mask of yours… um I mean…” he hesitated realising how forthright his request sounded.

Everyone turned his or her gazes to Batman expectantly. The Martian Manhunter revealed, “I sense nothing dangerous in them. They believe what they are telling us.”

Superman murmured to his teammate, “Come on, we need to know before we can figure anything out.”

Batman set his jaw, but acquiesced to Superman’s words. He unfastened and then removed his cowl. As his face was revealed, everyone now knew they had to work together to figure this out. Bruce Wayne smirked seeing his reflection, “Handsome devil.”

The dark hero paced towards Wonder Woman, grumbled, “May I?” he didn’t give her time to answer; he grasped her wrist, and used her shiny metal bracelets as a reflective surface and gazed at the blurry sight. It was enough to accept the fact of the situation. He returned to Superman’s side. He commanded, “Tell us what you know now.”

The playboy in their midst motioned to the team of heroes, and leered, “I volunteer to be interrogated by the beautiful amazon.” 

Wonder Woman shook her head, and uttered, “Man.” as if it was an insult.

Nonchalantly, Bruce Wayne picked up another cookie, and bit into it.

Then they began their story…

~*~

They’d adjourned to the conference room, before the Martian Manhunter got any angrier with Bruce Wayne for eating his whole stash of cookies. Sitting across from each other at the conference room table, Superman asked, “So what made you both make the trip to your different cities?”

Clark replied, “Gut feeling I guess, I… I mean we both have got vague awareness like dreams of being you…”

Beside him, Bruce grumbled, “More like fucking nightmares you mean.”

A quiet disapproving growl echoed from Batman’s throat. 

Superman pursed his lips with amusement at Batman’s terse display. He tilted his head towards Batman’s covered ear and uttered, “I think maybe we should be at 100% before we try to tackle this.”

At the mention of the spell, Superman and Batman’s gazes locked so close and understanding crossed between them without saying a word. Out the corner of his eyes, Superman saw the alternate versions of them exchange glances, but he couldn’t read what either of them was thinking. Except, Bruce appeared gloating and Clark looked pleased as if he was relieved that he’d got something right. Superman sat up straight and he asked his teammate normally, “Do you think this has anything to do with the spell?”

“The spell?” Clark Kent asked worriedly.

Batman ignored Clark’s question, but answered Superman’s, “If this was caused by the spell, where are everyone else’s…?”

“Everyone else’s what?” the reporter prodded.

Superman replied to Batman, “I don’t know.” 

Batman grumbled, “I don’t want to believe this is who we really are.”

Bruce chuckled humourlessly, “I don’t want to be you either pal.”

Superman met Clark’s gaze, he sure didn’t like the idea of the meek man sitting in front him being him either, but he wasn’t about to start belittling himself about it. Instead, he asked, “So this feeling of things not being right, when did it begin?”

“Yesterday morning.” Clark answered.

“You two have been up here since then, overnight?”

The billionaire groaned with exasperation, “Yes. Now are you going to tell us what the hell is going on here?”

~*~

Zatanna Zatara entered the conference room, and stared at the sight before her. “Wow.” She measured them up and uttered, “Two for the price of one.” Superman cleared his throat. Clark Kent fiddled with his glasses before slipping them on, trying to hide behind them. Zatanna grinned, “I always thought those glasses were adorable.”

Batman and Superman’s eyes met as Zatanna implied what they needed confirming. Batman asked, “Zatanna do you know these men.”

The magician glanced at the two strangers and then she winked at Bruce, “Of course I do.”

Bruce smiled smugly, “I haven’t had the pleasure but I’d love to.”

Zatanna chuckled, but for some unknown reason Clark glared at Bruce. In response, Bruce squirmed and shook him off.

Superman sighed, “So you’re saying that these two are really me and Batman, and your spell went wrong.”

Seriously, Zatanna said, “Something went wrong but I don’t know how, that spell was fool-proof.”

Batman grumbled under his breath knowing he shouldn’t have trusted magic to begin with.

Superman wondered, “I don’t understand what happened, I still feel like me, yeah I didn’t know my name was Clark Kent, or that I am a reporter by trade, but I don’t feel like part of me is missing.”

Flash wondered, “And what about us, where are our extra bits.”

Zatanna sighed, “I don’t know, all I can do is reverse the original spell and hope it fixes everything.”

It was worth a shot.

~*~

Heroes you are, heroes you be.  
Reclaim your titles. Your names are empowered.  
Adorn your identity and celebrate your heritage.  
In this place is your strength of mind, your skill, and the power of your heart.  
But not only here, everywhere you go.  
Call to mind the places that feed your heart, call to mind your kith and your kin.  
Erotser, Etanimulli dna nekawa

Zatanna swayed, and Flash caught her. Superman felt dizzy, and he turned his head against the conference table. He saw the unmasked Batman unconscious sitting next to him with his head on the table too. Superman reached out and he shook his friend’s shoulder, “B you okay?”

Batman groaned and then opened his eyes. “Yeah, I think.”

Superman smiled, and then sat up, and he saw everyone was looking at them. Beside him, Batman sat up. Superman asked, “Is everyone okay?”

Flash, Manhunter, Lantern and Wonder Woman nodded. Then Diana asked, “We’re fine, what about you two?” 

Superman blinked, and then nodded, “Fine I think.” He met Zatanna’s gaze and asked, “Did everything go alright, Zee?”

The beautiful magician nodded, “Everyone’s back to normal, the shield has been lifted.” She looked relieved but hesitant, “Your little buddies have gone too, so I think everything’s okay.”

After getting his bearings, Batman spoke, “We still don’t know what they were or why it happened.”

Zee shrugged and wheedled, “I don’t know what to tell you Bruce, it’s just that you two must be freaks or something.”

Batman was clearly not happy about the situation. But everyone else was content to let it be, all ready to get home.

They watched them all head out, until only Superman and Batman were left in the conference room. Then from his chair, Bruce muttered, “How can they just let it go like that?”

“They don’t understand because it didn’t happen to them.” Clark suggested.

“But why didn’t it happened to them?” his friend wondered.

“You want my opinion?”

Bruce met his gaze, and nodded stoically.

“It’s because they’re not like us Bruce. They put on a uniform, and they go out there and do good and save people.”

“Isn’t that what we do?”

Clark smiled, “Yeah, but then they go home, and go to work, they relax because no one knows who they are.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, “Well yeah.”

He pursed his lips. “We’re overachievers Bruce, you and I. We only take off our uniforms and relax within our private sanctuaries, but out in the world we double our efforts, we both wear two lots of disguises. We have two masks, I’ve got my uniform and cape that complement me wearing my glasses the rest of the time, that’s one, and when I’m out in public I have the other one that's not quite me…”

Bruce nodded along, getting the gist, “Just like I have the Batsuit, but I’m also Brucie who’s not the real Bruce Wayne.”

“That’s right. I think that spell did what we wanted it to and the real us the men, and heroes that we are went on that mission just like everyone else, we didn’t know our names and backgrounds but we were still us, we were still a team and we were still friends. I think the spell didn’t know what to do with our little facades so it split them off and gave them a life of their own.”

His friend’s eyes widened, and he nodded, “That’s why they didn’t have our memories and why it didn’t happen to the others, their identities are secret but they don’t have facades like we do.”

Clark chuckled, “Like Zee said we’re kind of freaks amongst freaks.”

Bruce chuckled too, and uttered, “It was eye opening though. I guess I’m quite arrogant when I’m being Brucie huh?”

He nodded.

His friend nudged him, “I guess behind all that stutter Clark Kent’s good at his job, he’d basically figured it out and got them up here.”

He smiled at the compliment. He patted Bruce on the back, “Come on let’s get out of here.”

Bruce arose and they headed for the transporter room. “Are you heading for Metropolis?”

For a second he was going to say yes, but then he remembered something, “Oh no, um I think I left my truck on your driveway.”

As they entered the transporter room, Bruce said, “Did you just remember something that happened as those two?”

They stepped onto the pad, and Bruce activated the controls. Clark shrugged, “Yeah I guess so.”

Bruce frowned and revealed, “Geez I didn’t even talk to Alfred yesterday, I bet he’s wondering what happened.”

Clark chuckled, “It looks like we’re both going to remember everything that we did during our lost weekend.”

They met each other’s gaze, as they transported down to their normal lives.

 

The end


End file.
